


no room for air

by dragonair



Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: Fluff, Gratuitous Color Symbolism, M/M, Pre Blue Lock, Study Date, interpreting love languages, slight miscommunication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27364462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonair/pseuds/dragonair
Summary: Because hazily waking up with a hand on his head tells Nagi exactly who he’s with, where he is, how he got there. He doesn’t even need to open his eyes. Still, moments like these are few and far between, violet storm clouds in the thick of summer.
Relationships: Mikage Reo/Seishirou Nagi
Comments: 7
Kudos: 43





	no room for air

**Author's Note:**

> hello hello! this is the first of hopefully a few wips i'll be polishing/publishing as I try my best to complete nanowrimo this year! 
> 
> blue lock seized my heart over the summer, and i'm super excited at the prospect of writing more content (i love reonagi, kunigiri, and isabachi especially), so please let me know if you'd like to see more of this stuff from me!

Nagi’s only half-awake when he realizes there’s a hand in his hair. 

A thumb draws steady circles against his scalp, a pinky skims his right temple. The shiver that courses through his body at the contact is alluring, a trance. 

He leans into it. He _likes_ it. 

Because hazily waking up with a hand on his head tells Nagi exactly who he’s with, where he is, how he got there. He doesn’t even need to open his eyes. Still, moments like these are few and far between, violet storm clouds in the thick of summer. 

No, Nagi can’t remember the last time it’d ever been just like this. It would be a waste not to sit and enjoy it—

“I know you’re awake,” Reo says, abrupt. Though the whisper in his breath is cautious, hesitant. 

Considerate, but the damage has been done. The cloud-wish, once at the forefront of Nagi’s thoughts, begins to fray at the edges. It’s just out of reach, just far enough away for Nagi to forget what he was even thinking about in the first place. Now unoccupied, Nagi’s brain scrambles to catch up with what Reo said.

_How could he know that I’m awake,_ Nagi thinks, humming to himself. It’ll confirm Reo’s suspicions, but at this point Nagi doesn’t care. _Even I didn’t know until he started talking._

As if confirming, two of Reo’s fingers ghost over a sensitive spot on Nagi’s hairline. How Reo knows to do this, where to touch, Nagi isn’t sure - but it teases an involuntary noise out of Nagi’s throat. The sound rattles embarrassingly through Reo’s room, echoing enough times to force Nagi out of his haze and confront reality.

Reo got him this time. He knows Nagi too well. 

“You win,” Nagi grumbles, propping his chin against the desk. While he’ll admit it’s not the worst way to wake up, and that he’s impressed by Reo’s handiwork, he’d still rather be sleeping. Or zoning out. Or doing literally anything else but talk to Reo about football right now, which is probably how he wants to spend the afternoon. “But I wanna sleep longer." 

He doesn’t wait for a response. His head lolls to the side, cheek brushing against the cool, wooden surface. 

_Mahogany,_ Nagi’s brain supplies, helpfully. _Last time you were here, Reo told you not to drool on it._

Not that Nagi cares much about what Reo thinks. Reo will invite Nagi over anyway, for his _approaching god-status football talent_ , or whatever. So Nagi can drool on the mahogany all he wants. And Reo’s a _Mikage_ \- his family could probably afford enough mahogany tables to buy out the FIFA organization entirely. 

So Nagi settles, arms slumping over the desk’s surface. It’s not all that comfortable, but he doesn’t want to get up. It’s just the most convenient spot at the moment. 

Reo’s hand repositions at Nagi’s shift, the flat of his palm hovering over the base of Nagi’s neck. The motions still for a moment. Nagi almost misses the steady cadence of thumb circles against his crown when it comes back, right behind his left ear. 

“I won’t stop you,” Reo says, and Nagi can hear the smile in his voice. It’s the last thing he remembers before drifting back into the haze. 

. . .

Nagi dreams of purple clouds, of vibrant eyes the same hue. 

He’s starting to see purple in everything: in evening skies, in the bruises his shin guards leave behind, in dull flashes before he falls asleep. The fact that these things remind Nagi of Reo should annoy him — they’re not even friends, Reo sees him as a means to an end or a coveted possession or whatever the hell a _gem_ is — but the feeling that’s left behind is nothing so unpleasant. 

The feeling pools in Nagi’s stomach, coils deep in his chest, unfurls like ribbons in Nagi’s throat. He feels it when he talks, when he breathes, when he so much as glances in Reo’s direction. Still, like a calm emerald sea, Nagi’s expression remains placid. He’d never be so foolish as to give himself away, whatever these feelings may be. 

For now, though, Nagi lets the violet haze pull him deeper still.

. . .

When Nagi wakes this time, the fog has already lifted. Neither of Reo’s hands are in Nagi’s hair— they’re laced together, pads of Reo's pointer fingers grazing either side of his lower lip as he stares contemplatively at the computer screen. From this angle, Reo’s jaw seems tense. Nagi wants to smooth it out with his fingers, hold Reo by the temples and feel Reo’s mouth go slack beneath him. 

Nagi furrows his eyebrows. _What’s Reo so distracted about?_

Reo sits upright at his computer beside Nagi, seemingly unaffected by the time that passed since the last time Nagi woke up. It’s safe to assume that Reo hasn’t noticed Nagi’s awake yet, so Nagi follows Reo’s eyes with his own, cheek still planted on the desk’s surface.

The article title on Reo’s laptop, _“How to Decipher Anyone’s Love Language in 5 Simple Steps,”_ is self-explanatory enough. 

It might’ve offended Nagi, if he put much weight on the nature of their friendship. If the ethics of being Mikage Reo’s _own personal gem_ actually mattered much to him. But Nagi knows their friendship is nothing more than transactional. Nagi helps Reo get better at football. In exchange, Nagi can do as he pleases when he comes over. They’ve worked out a nice deal — and Nagi can’t help but feel as though Reo’s getting the short end of it, if anything. 

Reo’s eyes, trained on the center of the screen, do not falter. 

_Love Language #3: Physical Touch._

Reading it without saying anything might be rude, but… the subheading already caught Nagi’s eye. He might as well see this through. 

_“Dragging your fingertips across the back of your partner’s neck can be an intimate expression of love. Touching your partner’s hair, holding the back of their neck, or even their bare leg can be an expressive way of telling your partner you’re there for them.”_

Nagi’s pulse races.

_Love. Intimacy. Partnership._

It climbs through his gut, up his chest, into his throat. His tongue feels thick and foreign behind his teeth — he’s not sure if he could even talk back to Reo now, if he notices Nagi woke up again. 

Nagi isn’t even sure what he _wants_ to say. 

_Are you doing this because you like me? Or because you want to win the football championship?_

Nagi starts to sit up, stomach tensing.

_Which do you want me to think?_

With a pair of deep breaths, the hammering in Nagi’s chest settles.

_Is this how you’re trying to win me over?_

Now also sitting fully upright, Reo notices Nagi out of the corner of his eye. With a flashlike flip of the wrist, Reo snaps his laptop shut. 

Then, the placid emerald sea’s first tidal wave: _if I like his attention this much, does it even matter?_

Nagi supposes he’s already thought it through well enough. 

So he slots his head between Reo’s chin and right shoulder, lips grazing the underside of Reo’s jaw. Reo’s breath stutters, jaw clenching even tighter.

“Um, _Nagi_?” 

He finds one of Reo’s wrists, pins his grip at Reo’s pulse. It’s _fast._

“You want to kiss me,” Nagi whispers into Reo’s skin, “so do it.”

“You want me to _what_?” 

Nagi’s frown deepens. Reo isn’t even listening to him. 

“I didn’t say what I wanted,” Nagi presses. He pulls away from Reo’s neck, staring at him with an unfaltering, lidded gaze. “It’s what _you_ want.”

Reo shakes his head, sets an arm on Nagi’s shoulder to steady him. “I don’t want to kiss you if you don’t want me to.”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t want to.”

Reo hesitates, presumably weighing the options over in his head. It’s the smart thing to do, thinking before acting. But when Reo chews at his bottom lip, all Nagi can think about is how much he _burns_ to feel it, pliant against his own.

Then, Reo sets both hands on the base of Nagi’s neck. It’s a familiar, comforting gesture — the circles that Reo presses against Nagi’s skin tease out another high-pitched whine. Reo stifles a chuckle at the noise, drawing nearer to Nagi with every breath.

They’re so close, Nagi isn’t sure who closes the distance between them.

It’s Nagi’s first real kiss, but Reo’s done this before. He clearly _must_ have _,_ to whip up a whirlwind in Nagi’s chest like this. Reo’s lips, soft and steady, find a languid rhythm against Nagi’s own. It beckons Nagi even closer into Reo's space - to which Nagi complies without hesitation.

When Reo’s fingertips tease the strip of hair at the back of Nagi’s neck, his heartbeat thunders.

Somewhere in the distance, violet clouds meet the vast emerald sea. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> if you like Reonagi, consider following my [reonagi spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2hgk8GzgTEAocI2jX4S3Az)!
> 
> as always, follow me on twitter [@tsukisyama](https://twitter.com/tsukisyama) and please leave kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed!! <3


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